The Great Escape
by JadeAndKate
Summary: Written a few months ago, when Shane Douglas first went off to rehab. Raven, Sandman, Tommy Dreamer, and RVD attempt to help. Hilarity, naturally, ensues. Language, drug abuse.


The Great Escape  
By JadeAndKate  
Shane Douglas goes to rehab. Hilarity, naturally, ensues.  
Warnings: language, drug use, lame jokes

* * *

"Shut up, you're drunk."

The raucous burst of laughter crackling over the phone line didn't do much to disprove Tommy's accusation. Tommy frowned in irritation and glared at the lockers across the room, waiting it out. Sandman always sounded like he was hacking up a lung when he laughed.

"THAT," Sandman gasped, still chuckling, "is besides the point, Dreamer. C'mon, man, it'll be great. You gotta come."

"No, I DON'T," Tommy replied, a little too loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Rob Van Dam looked up from the discussion he was having with a couple of the boys and raised his eyebrows inquiringly. Tommy shook his head in response and lowered his voice. "I've got a job to do here, Sandman. I can't just drop it all for some drunken, crazy-ass road trip that you--hello?" Static buzzed in his ear for a moment, followed by the sounds of a small commotion on the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"Listen, Dreamer..." Tommy rolled his eyes. Figures Raven would be involved in this. "You were the one who used to say we had to support each other, right? Well, now Shane needs our support and--"

"His wife checked him into rehab, Raven. He's got all the support he needs."

"His wife's a whore," Raven declared. "He needs us, Tommy."

"To support him? Sandman said you wanted to break him out."

"Of COURSE we're going to break him out! He doesn't belong in rehab." Tommy started to object but was cut off. "Don't argue with us, Tommy, we are EXPERTS on rehab."

"Can't argue with that," Tommy admitted, grinning in spite of himself.

"Exactly," Raven concluded. "So you have to come. For ECW. The developmentally-challenged kids or whoever you're working with down there can take care of themselves for a day. Heyman will cover for you. We'll pick you up tomorrow morning."

The line went dead before Tommy could argue. Shaking his head again, he tucked the phone into the front pocket of his jeans as Rob dropped onto the bench beside him.

"Something wrong?" Rob asked.

"Nah." Tommy ran a hand over his short hair. "Shane Douglas just got checked into rehab."

"Yeah? Good for him."

"Yeah. Raven and Sandman want to break him out."

Rob smiled. "Typical. You should go." Tommy raised and eyebrow and Rob shrugged. "Just to hang out. It could be fun."

"Easy for you to say," Tommy snorted. "You don't have to deal with the Dynamic Duo of Drug Abuse."

Rob laughed. "I can if you want. I got a couple days before I'm supposed to be at RAW. I can tag along."

"Really?" Tommy grinned. "Thanks, man. I didn't want to deal with them alone."

* * *

"Hey, here's a thought." Tommy leaned forward between the two front seats, reaching for the cooler on the passenger-side floorboard. "How about leaving the beer in the backseat, where it belongs?"

Raven swatted Tommy's groping hand away, then opened the cooler and passed back two cans, keeping one for himself. "How about keeping that cigarette out of my face, Dreamer?"

"No kidding, dude," Rob giggled, taking a beer from Tommy. "His face paint might catch on fire. That shit could be flammable."

"Is it?" Sandman demanded enthusiastically. "'Cause that would be AWESOME."

"I don't think so." Raven stared out the passenger window, considering. "I'm pretty sure that would've come up by now."

"Can we stop soon?" Rob asked suddenly. "I need some food."

"Absolutely not," Raven responded. "We've got to break Shane out sometime this century. We can't be making pit stops every time Van Dam gets the munchies."

"Fuck that, I'm hungry, too." Sandman flicked the remainder of his cigarette out the window as he swerved into the exit lane. "I never liked Shane that much anyway."

"Yeah, me neither," Raven agreed. "Screw that fat bastard."

"So what was the point of this trip again?" Tommy sighed as they pulled into a Taco Bell drive-thru.

"Mostly, I just didn't want to stay home. I hate doing laundry and shit," Sandman confessed as he rolled down his window.

"I'm on sick leave from TNA, and I figured I hadn't ruined your life lately," Raven stated, leaning over Sandman to scan the menu.

"He's faking it," Sandman stage-whispered to Tommy.

"Fuck you, I'm really sick," Raven insisted, digging his elbow into Sandman's stomach.

"Nobody's debating that," Tommy muttered. "Get me a couple beef burritos and a Dr. Pepper."

* * *

"I think I have part of a gordita in my kilt," Raven whined, shifting in his seat as Sandman maneuvered the car into the rehabilitation center's parking lot.

"Hey, you started it, dipshit," Tommy pointed out as he unbuckled his seat belt.

"My food looked like a Frisbee," Raven insisted. "And I thought that window was down." Climbing out of the car, he took one look at Tommy's soaked jeans and burst into laughter.

"It's Dr. Pepper," Tommy said defensively. "Sandman swerved the car."

"Rob spit nachos on me!" Sandman exclaimed, slamming his door. "Is he still asleep?"

"Yeah, he's been out for a while." Reaching back into the car, Tommy shook him awake. "We're here, Rob. Get out."

Blinking rapidly to focus, Rob broke into a slow smile. "We're here? Man, we should grab something to eat. I'm starving."

Sighing, Tommy planted his hands on his hips and turned to survey the rehab clinic, illuminated by street lamps. "It's after visiting hours. Do we have a plan to get in or anything?"

"I really don't have much experience trying to get IN to rehab," Sandman confessed. "But once we're in, I can definitely get us out."

"We need a big laundry cart we can hide in or something." Raven stared speculatively at the front of the building. "Or a trellis. Think you could climb a trellis, Dreamer?"

"You watch too many movies," Tommy grunted.

"What the fuck is a 'trellis?'" demanded Sandman, staring at Raven.

"It's like...flowers and shit."

"How the hell is Dreamer going to climb a goddamn flower?"

Leaving Raven and Sandman to discuss the finer points of botany, Tommy moved toward the building to try the front door. Locked, of course. Nodding for Rob to try a set of doors to the left, Tommy circled right, checking all possible entrances for a way into the dark building.

Three-quarters of the way around the clinic, Tommy found Rob staring at the sky. "Dude," Rob grinning as Tommy approached, "I think I can jump it. Give me a boost?"

Tommy looked up to find the focus of Rob's attention. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered to himself, staring at the corroded remains of a fire escape twelve feet above them.

"No, there's an open window beside it, see? We can climb in there, then open the front door for Raven and Sandman." Rob looked hopefully at Tommy, who sighed as he interlocked his fingers and boosted Rob high enough to grab the edge of the metal grating.

After pulling Tommy onto the fire escape after him, Rob wiped his hands on the front of his jeans and grinned at his friend. "See? No problem."

"Yeah, well...maybe," Tommy admitted, ducking into the open window. "Let's just get this over with." He swore softly as he banged his knee on the wooden frame

"Need a hand?"

Tommy froze as laughter erupted from around the room. "Oh. Shit."

* * *

"Just...hit it with your head or something, I don't know."

"Good plan, genius. Headbutting locked doors ALWAYS works."

"It would if you were Samoan. They have the hardest heads in the world," Raven declared, leaning back against the wall beside the front door.

"You're ridiculous." Sandman paused, then suggested, "Maybe Tommy and Rob found a way in."

"Tommy couldn't break into a paper bag," Raven sighed, turning to peer through a window into the building. "Hey, I think somebody's in there."

"Get down," Sandman hissed, dropping into a crouch and staring in shock as Raven rapped loudly on the window. "Or just knock like a RETARD, I guess." He stepped back as the door swung open slightly, still held by its chain.

"Who are you?"

"Who the fuck are YOU?" Raven snapped at the newcomer. "Nevermind, just let us in. It's getting cold out here."

"I, um, can't do that," the young man in the doorway responded. "I'm on hall patrol."

"You a patient here?" Sandman interjected. At the man's nod, he continued. "We've got a friend in there. Can we come in?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not allowed."

Raven stared disdainfully, then turned to Sandman and muttered, "Keep him here. I'll be right back." Without further explanation, he turned and walked toward the car.

"Man, I used to have to do hall patrol all the time when I was in rehab," Sandman announced conversationally.

"Yeah?"

"Well, at first. That stuff sucks. I used to sneak out and find a guy to hook me up, though. They wouldn't let me on patrol when they figured that out."

"I know what you mean. I've got a friend in New York that does that. They're pretty strict here, though. I don't think I could get away with it."

"You sure?" Raven asked, returning to the conversation carrying his gym bag. "Ever tried?"

"No..." the young man admitted, looking around him nervously. "I'm not from around here, I don't really know anybody who could-"

"You do now," Raven interrupted, unzipping the front pocket of his gym bag and fishing out a large plastic bag filled with white powder. Holding it out to the astonished young man, he continued, "Take it. Let us in so that we can see our friend, and you can have it."

Immediately unfastening the chain holding the door shut, the young man stepped outside, snatching the bag from Raven and opening it quickly.

"Don't do it here, moron. Get lost for a couple hours. Take your time and enjoy this," Raven advised.

"Thanks so much, I..." Losing his train of thought, the young man tucked the bag under his shirt and started running across the parking lot.

"Easy as that," Raven smirked at Sandman, holding the front door open for him.

"Holy SHIT! How'd you get that much coke? And why the hell did you give it away?"

"Wasn't coke," Raven laughed, following his friend into the clinic. "Sugar."

"'Sugar' like PCP?"

"Sugar like powdered sugar. It's a decoy, idiot. In case Jeff Hardy gets ahold of my bag or something. I don't trust that kid."

Looking around the dim lobby, Sandman frowned. "So where do we start?"

"Let's find the medical center and grab some souvenirs."

* * *

"Are we being arrested?"

One of the guards glanced at Tommy over the top of his cards. "You in a hurry to get to jail? Let us finish this hand."

"That's cool," Rob agreed. "Take your time." Thirty seconds later, he continued. "So...is there any more security around?"

"Nope, just us four." The blonde guard grinned at him. "You broke into our break room. Isn't THAT a bitch?"

"Yeah." Rob's brow lowered in confusion. "I...maybe it's just me, but wouldn't it work bteter if you guys, like, spread out or something? You know, in case we DIDN'T break into this exact room."

An older guard leaned forward, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray. "Maybe, but this is the only room without a smoke detector. And believe it or not, rehab's got a pretty strict drug policy."

"You can't SMOKE here? Dude, that totally sucks. I couldn't stand that."

"Rob, I think most of the arenas we work in are anti-smoking, too," Tommy pointed out.

"No. WAY."

The guards started laughing at Rob's aghast expression. "Where do you work?" one asked. "When you're not breaking and entering, I mean."

"We're pro wrestlers," Tommy explained.

"Yeah? My kid's nuts about that stuff. Can you guys sign an autograph?"

"Sure." Rob dug around in his front pocket and came up with a black marker and a loose joint. "Can you give me a light?"

* * *

"Drugs are everywhere," Raven explained sleepily, slumped in the corner of a small room. "Drugs to feel, drugs to not feel, over-the-counter stuff, drugs to get you off other drugs...everywhere. It's all about combinations."

"Learn about that in chemistry class?" Sandman yawned, laying on his back on a low table.

"Mostly independent research."

Sandman rolled over on his side, facing Raven. "Man, Shane owes us HUGE for this one."

Raven shrugged indifferently, closing his eyes. "He never appreciates the stuff we do for him."

"Like what?"

Raven paused. "I can't think of anything right now, but I'm sure we've done stuff for him. And I'm sure he was an unappreciative bastard."

"No, he'll appreciate getting out of rehab. Rehab sucks."

"Yeah." Opening his eyes, Raven struggled to focus on his friend. "Hey, where'd your shirt go?"

"I'm not sure. I was hot."

"I disagree." Snickering as Sandman rolled his eyes, Raven pushed himself up straighter. "Hey, you know what we should do? We should just open all the doors and let everybody out."

"Why?"

"Why not? Nobody's happy here. Who's going to want to get clean if all they see is this miserable rehab shit?"

"So what? We don't even know most of the people here."

"Yeah, but...look, we KNOW Shane's an ass, and we're still going to hlep him. Some of these people might actually deserve our help."

"Well, hell," Sandman muttered, sliding off the table onto his feet. "C'mon. Not like I've got anything better to do."

* * *

"Dude, you really need to lighten up."

Tommy tried to glare at Rob, but the smoke now filling the room was starting to make his eyes water. He dropped his gaze to the beer can in front of him, still cold from the guards' minifridge.

"Yeah," one of the guards agreed, slapping Tommy on the back of his shoulder. "We're not going to arrest you for at least an hour. We've gotta win some money back from Ricky here first. Do you want us to deal you in this time?"

"No," Tommy stated firmly, "thank you. But I would not like to add illegal gambling to the long, long list of things I will be going to jail for later tonight."

Rob sighed and laid down his cards. "Are you going to be cranky about this?"

"Why on earth would I be cranky, Rob?" Tommy snapped sarcastically. "Just because the wacky misadventures of pro wrestlers are about to land me in jail AGAIN, and nobody seems to care that I actually have a JOB I should be at, and Raven and Sandman are probably partying it up in a strip club somewhere, and--"

"To be fair," Rob calmly interrupted. "I'm pretty sure the fire escape thing was your idea."

Tommy started searching for something to throw at him, but was stopped by the sounds of a commotion down the hallway. "What the hell?"

The guards started scrambling, quickly hiding all evidence of their party. The table had just been cleared when the door to the break room flew open.

"Freedom!" Sandman shouted, stopping in the doorway for a few seconds, then nodding to himself and turning to leave.

"Wait!" Tommy yelled, following him into the hallway and grabbing his arm. "What's going on? Who are all these people? And where are your shoes?"

Sandman stared uncomprehendingly as rehab patients flooded the hallway, looking for exits, then smiled with delight. "Raven! We rescued Tommy and Rob, too!"

"Tremendous!" Raven declared from down the hallway, staring lustfully at the glass-encased fire axe displayed on the wall.

"Dude, don't even think about it." Rob grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back toward Sandman and Tommy.

"What's an anarchist revolution without weaponry?" Raven complained. Noticing the security guards trying to stem the flow of people, he added, "And why were you consorting with the enemy?"

"Let's find a way out, and you can accuse us of treason later," Tommy decided, herding the group toward the stairs.

"Death to all individuality-crushing social fascism!" Raven yelled into the crowd, slurring only slightly.

"And thanks for the beer!" Rob added.

Three minutes later, the group stumbled into the parking lot. "Sandman is NOT driving," Tommy firmly announced, circling to the driver's side of the car. "Give me the keys."

"Shit," Sandman mumbled, lurching to a halt. "I think they're in my pants."

"I still have gordita in my kilt," Raven absently noted.

"For the love of GOD, Sandman," Tommy yelled, "WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Sandman shouted back. "One minute they're there, and the--"

"Stop screaming and get in the fucking car," Shane Douglas insisted, looking up at Tommy from the driver's seat. "You left the fucking keys in here. I've been waiting for ten minutes. And it smells like a fucking taco stand."

"Whatever." Tommy slid into the backseat, gesturing for Rob and Raven to squeeze in. "Sandman gets shotgun, because nobody wants to sit next to his half-naked ass."

"Sweet," Sandman declared, collapsing into the passenger seat. "Hey, Shane. We came to rescue you."

"I had already escaped to the closet, jackass," Shane responded, slamming the car into gear. "Then people just started running out the front door, and it kind of ruined the atmosphere I was going for. So I just fucking left."

By the time Shane had found the highway to get them out of town, Sandman was snoring with his forehead pressed against his window.

"Hey, Dreamer?" Raven broke the silence in the car.

"No."

"What?"

"Whatever you want. Just no."

"C'mon, Tommy. Sabu called me last night. New Jack's in jail again. He needs us, Tommy."

"Absolutely n--"

"Cool," Rob interrupted. "But can we stop and get something to eat first? I'm kind of hungry." 


End file.
